Chapter 97 Chapter 97. Walking Into Darkness
Zephyr’s heart twisted in agony, as though it were rotting away bit by bit. Outside, a driver was already waiting. When Zoria stepped out, he shot Zephyr a glance.
Zephyr turned his head toward the driver, but he did not dare look back at Zoria even once. Yes, he did not dare. Nor could he bear to. He was afraid that if he looked at her just one more time, he would soften and rush forward to stop her.
The driver said, "Alpha, I’ll take Ms. Zoria away first."
Rain pattered steadily outside. Zoria had forgotten to bring an umbrella. She carefully tucked the contract inside her coat and stepped into the rain. Her slender figure gradually dissolved into the dense curtain of falling water.
Zephyr stood before the floor-to-ceiling window. His tall, thin silhouette stretched long under the lights. His gaze pierced through the rain, watching Zoria’s fragile figure slowly disappear. He remained motionless for a long time, until the cigarette burned down to his fingertips. Only then did he jolt back to his senses, his brows knitting tightly together.
After a while, he pulled out his phone and sent a message to Lysander.
"Zoria has been delivered to your place. Can you tell me where Faye is now?"
Lysander replied almost instantly. “I’ll decide after I see Zoria. Relax. Your Faye is fine—for now. She’s not dead yet.”
Zephyr clenched his phone so tightly that the veins stood out along his arm.
A maid poured him a cup of coffee. Seeing Zephyr standing motionless by the window, she respectfully set the cup on the coffee table and asked in a soft voice, “Alpha, will Ms. Zoria be coming back for dinner tonight?”
She had only seen Zoria run out into the rain and had no idea why she’d gone. Noticing how strange both Zoria and Zephyr had seemed, she assumed they’d had an argument.
“Probably not…” Zephyr said hoarsely. “But I want to wait for her. Tonight, tell the chef to make the dishes she likes.”
His face was cold and taut, as if he were forcing something deep down inside himself. About two hours later, his phone buzzed with a message. It was a location pin. Zephyr gripped the phone and immediately gave the order to lead his men to that address to find Faye.
The rain kept drumming down, growing heavier by the minute, with no sign of stopping. He leaned back against the seat and slowly closed his eyes. If Lysander had sent him this location, it meant Zoria had already gone to see Lysander.
His mind collapsed into chaos, his heart aching so badly he could barely breathe… Unable to endure it, Zephyr rolled down the car window. Rain lashed against his face, icy cold. He lifted a hand to his cheek and felt only numbness, unable to tell whether it was rainwater or tears.
…
Inside the lavish presidential suite, an opulent chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting a warm golden glow. The air carried an indescribable sense of danger—especially unsettling within an Alpha’s territory.
Zoria sat on the large black bed near the floor-to-ceiling window. Her head was lowered, hands resting on her knees, fingers unconsciously clenched. Overwhelmed by tension, her already pale face looked almost translucent.
The sound of running water came from the bathroom. Lysander was inside.
Click—the bathroom door opened. Zoria slowly lifted her gaze from her hands and looked at the male stepping out. He wore a loosely draped bathrobe, casually open to reveal his sculpted chest and abdomen.
Lysander’s bright golden eyes fixed on her as he walked over and sat beside the bed. He said nothing. Only after sending the message to Zephyr did he reach out and pull Zoria into his arms, his long arm tightening around her, pressing her against his chest.
Zoria’s body still trembled uncontrollably. She remembered Zephyr saying that Faye had been kidnapped by Lysander and was in critical condition. That alone was enough to prove Lysander was far from as “harmless” as he looked.
Lysander leaned close to her ear, his voice low. “Do you want to take a shower?”
He looked at Zoria, the smile on his face slowly deepening. He seemed completely different from the first time they’d met. Back then, he’d played the humble act. Now, every word he spoke felt carefully measured.
“I’m a bit of a cleanliness freak,” he said, his tone shifting. “I don’t like touching filthy people.” Then he added casually, “But I don’t mind touching you.”
He asked intimately, “Zoria, what I said last time was true. Maybe I fell for you at first sight. Why don’t you consider staying with me?”
Zoria answered hoarsely, “Does it matter to you whether I consider it or not?”
Whether it was Zephyr or Lysander, to them she was nothing more than a commodity. And commodities didn’t need their feelings returned—they could be traded at any time.
Lysander didn’t seem surprised by her reply. As if he’d already seen through her thoughts, he chuckled softly. “It still has some value if you consider becoming mine. At least I’m not like Zephyr. I don’t like forcing people.”
He released Zoria, stood up, and took a cigarette pack from the nightstand drawer. He pulled one out, lit it, and took a slow drag before exhaling smoke in her direction. When he saw her frown, he seemed to remember something and let out a soundless laugh. “You’ve always wanted to cut your bond with Zephyr, haven’t you? Now that you’ve finally left him, shouldn’t you be thanking me?”
He looked utterly relaxed, his brows smooth, his smile bright as sunlight—gentle, almost approachable. Only those blue eyes, when fixed on Zoria, darkened like a bottomless abyss, as if they could swallow her whole, sending a chill straight down her spine.
Zoria nodded, then said quietly, "Thanks. So can you let me go now?"
Lysander laughed, bright and easy. "Of course not. I worked too damn hard to snatch you out of Zephyr’s hands."
Zoria fell silent. After a moment, she heard him ask again, "When Zephyr let you go, was he in pain? Did he look miserable?"
Zoria shook her head. "I don’t know. But I don’t think he was upset. If he had been, he wouldn’t have traded me."
Lysander let out a cold chuckle. "You think you understand him that well?"
"We’ve known each other for years," Zoria replied. "I know him very well."